What Is Pink? A Rose

What Is Pink? A Rose Is Pink By The Fountain's Brink.

I Have No Wit, No Words, No Tears; My Heart Within Me Like A Stone Is Numb'd Too Much For Hopes Or Fears; Look Right, Look Left, I Dwell Alone; I Lift Mine Eyes, But Dimm'd With Grief No Everlasting Hills I See; My Life Is In The Falling Leaf: O Jesus, Quicken Me.

Obedience Is The Fruit Of Faith.

I Watched A Rose-bud Very Long Brought On By Dew And Sun And Shower, Waiting To See The Perfect Flower: Then When I Thought It Should Be Strong It Opened At The Matin Hour And Fell At Even-song.

Oh That It Were With Me As With The Flower; Blooming On Its Own Tree For Butterfly And Bee Its Summer Morns: That I Might Bloom Mine Hour A Rose In Spite Of Thorns. Oh That My Work Were Done As Birds' That Soar Rejoicing In The Sun: That When My Time Is Run And Daylight Too, I So Might Rest Once More Cool With Refreshing Dew.